


The Perils of Staying Properly Hydrated

by HomunculusTrashParty



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Desperation, Humiliation, Interrogation, Omorashi, Other, Urination, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8100184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomunculusTrashParty/pseuds/HomunculusTrashParty
Summary: Kylo Ren crossed the threshold of the ramp that led to his personal shuttle, with the girl completely unconscious in his arms, and another burdensome sensation beneath his belt.





	

Kylo Ren crossed the threshold of the ramp that led to his personal shuttle, with the girl completely unconscious in his arms, and another burdensome sensation beneath his belt. It had taken a while to find her, long enough that his penchant for staying properly hydrated while wearing so many layers had begun to catch up with him. Ren gave a few orders as he arrived on board, then crossed to the passenger area, gently lowering the scavenger into one of the seats. After buckling her in, he became unsatisfied with the way her head lolled about, and resigned himself to sitting next to her. At least that way, he could allow her head to rest on his shoulder, and prevent any possible damage to her mind that would compromise his ability to retrieve the map.

There was, of course, a refresher on board; if he went quickly, he could return before she managed to get hurt. As Ren got up to use it, turbulence and what had to be Resistance cannon fire rocked the ship, kicking him back down into his seat. He rolled his eyes behind his mask, huffing a sigh. Very well, then. He'd just go when they arrived. He'd waited far, far longer periods in the past.

Minutes passed, and to kill time he began to align his breathing with that of the scavenger, who was slowly making her way into his lap. The extra weight of her unconscious form was certainly not helping him ignore the urge. He was tempted to shove her off of him, but remembered just in time that she was not doing it to provoke him. If anything, she would want to escape—another very good reason to remain at her side until they were back at Starkiller. There was something different about her, something he could feel, that he hadn't felt since he'd been reborn into the Dark and taken a different name. She certainly wasn't a Jedi, no—the Jedi were extinct. Well. Almost. They would be soon.

One very long hour later, they touched down, landing with a slight bump that went right to his bladder. Wincing and getting to his feet, Kylo Ren unbuckled the restraints that held the girl in place and stooped to pick her up, this time grunting uncomfortably. He hadn't realized how full he'd gotten until he'd stood up, and now that he had to carry her again, his body was focused on a task that didn't involve firmly clenching muscles in the right area. It didn't matter. They were almost there. He just had to carry her to her interrogation cell, and then he could slip away and release a powerful stream into the nearest urinal. Ren vastly preferred to use his own private refresher in his quarters, but after over an hour of discomfort, the long walk would only make it worse. 

The scavenger stirred in his arms. With sudden alarm Ren began walking faster; normally the hold he'd used to incapacitate her lasted hours and hours, not ninety minutes. With a sinking feeling, he wondered if he'd even have the chance to go relieve himself without her waking up in his absence. There would be a guard at the door, but they'd be no match for her, not if she was already shaking off the effects of his Force hold.

He entered the room and lay her into the chair, arranging her delicately and clicking the restraints shut. Her eyelids twitched slightly, her fingers curling and uncurling. She could awaken any minute, any second. He had to stay.

Cursing inwardly, Kylo Ren tried to stand still. If he stood still and tried to look imposing, perhaps this would not take very long at all. He resisted the urge to fidget, to step back and forth, or to complain about the way he felt. Perhaps he'd have to add this to his training; it seemed to be an area in which he was woefully lacking skill.

Fifteen minutes later, she was still unconscious, and he was beginning to ache. Was there anyone he could call to guard her, anyone above the level of stormtrooper? There was Phasma. Could he call Phasma? No, absolutely not. What would he say? Could she watch the prisoner while he went and took a piss? It would be awkward at best and at worst, a level of humiliation that would require wiping her mind to overcome. Phasma was too valuable; he couldn't afford to lose her unique skill set and brilliant tactical mind over something so trivial. He'd just have to wait. The girl would wake up soon, and he'd get the information out of her and then leave.

As he sighed with frustration, keeping his eyes trained on the girl, Ren thought back on the day's events. He'd woken up, drank water and dressed, eaten breakfast, used the toilet once and then hadn't had a moment since. The rest of his day revolved around personally overseeing the capture of the scavenger, and with bitter surprise he realized it had been over six hours since he'd last had access to a bathroom. Perhaps he should drink less water. Either that, or recruit a clone army that could be relied upon to perform the tasks assigned to them. They had been spread too thin to retrieve the droid and the girl both. He'd had no choice but to handle the second task himself.

Why had he even had to personally oversee their assault of the Resistance forces on Takodana? He'd specifically given the order to General Hux, who had passed the order along to his subordinates. Yet there had been no one sent to apprehend the girl. It was as though Hux found her to be of no importance. If she was at all involved with the map to Skywalker, she had to be found. Droids were highly intelligent, but they still responded to sentients as their masters, and this girl was the droid's new master. It was so typical of Hux to overlook or ignore important details, especially if they did not correspond to the rest of his information. When Ren saw him again, he would reprimand him for his imbecilic mistake. Those who lacked Force sensitivity would always be inferior. How could anyone make decisions on such insufficient information, without the Force as their guide?

A sharp intake of breath interrupted his thoughts, and Ren froze, scanning the girl for signs of consciousness. So far, all he could see was the occasional muscle twitch, not enough for her to be awake, yet enough for him to be unable to leave her alone. His full bladder spasmed suddenly, and he harshly clenched his muscles against it. He couldn't lose control, not now. Ren realized that he'd been stepping from one foot to another, tempted to reach down and grab himself, yet unable to. If the scavenger saw him, it would jeopardize his entire mission. If anyone else saw him, he'd have to kill them.

Did he have time to leave? He _had_ to. He had to go, so badly. It was torture. He could feel his belly bulging outward, thankfully hidden by his tunic. He thought with bitter regret about all the water he'd sipped all day, about how hot and sweaty his battle regalia made him and how thirsty he'd get. He could feel a sharp urge taking over his lower body, as taut muscles grew tired. It wouldn't last forever. He needed a break. It had been at least half an hour and she still wasn't awake. Surely two minutes later, she'd still be unconscious.

Ren took brisk steps toward the door, and as soon as he got there he heard a soft yawn.

Cringing and reaching down to grip himself, which was no easy feat through a layer of armor, Kylo Ren resisted the urge to ignite his saber and destroy half the hallway in his frustration. He turned back around and resumed his position in front of the girl.

Five minutes later, he dropped to a crouch. Being male, he was unaccustomed to urinating in a squatting position. Perhaps it would help. Standing with his legs spread had threatened to undo him, and the last thing he needed was to be in public with telltale, guilty wet streaks down his legs, into his boots. At this point he was full enough that it could soak through his armor to the front of his tunic for all to see. He couldn't let that happen. He _couldn't_.

Just as he was about to get up and make a run for it, the girl woke up with a start, looking around her in confusion. Ren swallowed his anger, fear and consternation.

“Where am I?”

“You're my guest,” he replied, thanking the Force that his voice hadn't begun to tremble.

“Where are the others?”

“You mean the murderers, traitors, and thieves you call friends? You’ll be relieved to hear I have no idea.” They were wasting time. He could hear the strain in his voice.

Irritated that he’d answered her questions and not asked any of his own, Ren reached out with the Force and brushed her mind, just slightly. “You still want to kill me?”

“That happens when you’re being hunted by a creature in a mask,” she shot back.

His lips set in a firm line. He was _not_ about to be insulted by this scavenger. Kylo Ren was no creature. He was the Master of the Knights of Ren. Billions of sentients across the galaxy feared his image, his powers, his reign of terror. 

Clearly this girl had never heard of him. His technique this time around would have to be a little different. 

Temporarily suspending his better judgment, which insisted that the best way to hide the pain of a bursting bladder would be to keep his face covered, Ren stood with a rough breath that he hoped could not be heard through his mask. At this point, everything he’d had to drink all day had made it to his bladder, and it felt so large that he wondered briefly if it had eclipsed all other organs in that area of his body. His firm belly pressed against the front of his pants, which were now unbearably tight, and as he reached up to remove his mask, his gaze tilted downward enough that he could see the slight rise in his armor and tunic. 

Ren tried not to panic. Interrogating the Resistance pilot had been easy, but if his hunch was correct about this girl, she would present far greater difficulty. It had taken about five minutes to retrieve the information from the pilot.

He wasn’t sure he had five minutes to wait. Much longer than that, and he’d soak every single layer of what he was wearing. 

Ren removed his mask; it appeared that the scavenger’s confusion had disarmed her. Good. “Tell me about the droid.”

“He’s a BB unit with a selenium drive and a thermal hyperscan vindicator—”

“He's carrying a section of a navigational chart. We have the rest, recovered from the archives of the Empire, but we need the last piece. And somehow you convinced the droid to show it to you. You...” He took a deep breath and tried to focus on something, anything other than his need. “A scavenger,” he continued with disdain.

He probably should have been proud of the pained look she gave the ceiling in response to his insult, and perhaps in another circumstance he would be. Deciding to capitalize on it, Ren stepped forward, channeling his distress into menace. “And you know I can take whatever I want.”

She didn't reply; he moved in closer to her, firmly commanding his body not to make any unnecessary movements that could distract her and break the spell of his dominance. With his fingers only inches from her face, he reached into her mind, flipping through irrelevant data until he found what he was looking for: a diversion. His powers would be at a loss, he knew, with his attention divided elsewhere. He needed to weaken his target, hit her where it hurt, and then this could all be over as soon as possible.

“You're so lonely,” he began, and watched as tears rolled down her cheeks. “So afraid to leave. At night, desperate to sleep, you imagine an ocean. I see it… I see the island.” 

Ren continued to probe through her mind, watching with satisfaction as she struggled to rein in her emotions. Then he faltered, distracted by the images he could see through the Force: his father, copiloting the _Falcon_ with the scavenger, commending her for her skills. He could feel the pride in her heart at Solo's praise. “And… Han Solo.” Ren couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, or off his face. “You think he's the father you never had. He would have disappointed you.”

He felt a surge of anger from the girl before he heard it in her voice. “Get out of my head,” she growled.

Fine, then. He'd skip right to the good part, prove his superior power to her—and just in time, too, as he felt a rolling wave in his pelvis threaten to release the entire contents of his bladder spontaneously and involuntarily. Just a little longer to hold on, two minutes at most. Victory was imminent. 

Ren backed away and crossed to stand before her once again, assuming a position of power. “I know you've seen the map. It's in there. And now you'll give it to me.” With his arm outstretched, he channeled as much Force energy as he could to fight his way into her mind. 

She resisted, valiantly—and at the ten second mark, when the Resistance pilot had succumbed to his attack, the girl was still going strong. Too strong.

“I'm not giving you anything,” she declared. It felt like a taunt. 

“We'll see.” 

Ren summoned every sensation he could find in his body, and felt the power of the Dark flow through his hand into her head. With rage shooting into his fingertips, he thought of Hux, of his unimaginably stupid decisions; he thought of FN-2187, whom he would rip apart limb from limb for putting them all in this position to begin with; he thought of the agony in his body, the pressure, the crushing desperation he felt; and finally, he thought of the Resistance pilot, and realized with dismay that he should have gotten into her mind by now.

A full thirty seconds had gone by, and she looked unfazed. He stared at her, unblinking, unable to comprehend what was happening. 

She… was fighting back. Not just fighting. Winning. Now she was inside _his_ head, looking around, seeing—no, _no,_ she _couldn't_ be seeing—

“You…” Her voice echoed inside his mind, like the cruel laughter of a schoolyard bully. “You're afraid…”

_Please, don't—_

“… that you'll never be as strong as Darth Vader!”

Kylo Ren wrenched his arm down, breaking their connection immediately, fighting to catch his breath and watching her do the same. As he inhaled, he realized with abject horror that some of that pressure had disappeared, was disappearing, right then. He was leaking. He was _leaking, right there, in front of her._

Ren immediately dashed out of the room, leaving the scavenger behind, gaping at him with eyes wide open and a slight rise of pink in her cheeks.

The nearest public refresher was on the far side of the floor they were on, and never in his life had Ren been so furious with the way Starkiller had been planned. Those who did not immediately vacate his path were hurled into the wall with the Force and incapacitated. All he had to do to evacuate the refresher was ignite his saber, immediately extinguishing it when the room was empty and locking the door behind them with the Force. 

He could feel soaking heat filling his underwear, his tight pants, running down his long legs and into his boots as he tore off his belt, shook off his cloak and unzipped the padded suit of armor he wore, until finally he could open his pants, pull out his still-pissing cock and aim it somewhere, _anywhere._ With one hand against the wall for support, he stood with legs wide apart, head bowing in surrender as he let go completely with an embarrassingly loud groan of relief. The deafening sound of his stream hitting the water of the urinal covered up another long sigh, and in the back of his mind he counted the seconds it took to relieve himself, giving up at the one minute mark when the flow hadn't yet stopped. 

How had he let this happen? He'd never wet himself as an adult, not even as a teenager. Every child had bedwetting issues of some kind, but his had never been out of the ordinary. He'd always had ironclad control. It must have been the girl, who somehow had been able not only to resist his attack, but to break through it and enter his mind. The intrusion must have interfered with his ability to keep holding, which wasn't too surprising as it had taken an enormous amount of his strength to stay dry for even that long. And he had failed, completely. Hot shame washed over him, followed by humiliation and anger. He'd get his revenge; he'd make everyone pay for this terrible violation of his mind, for his deeply wounded pride. 

At last, he finished pissing, noticing that the bulge in his abdomen from his full bladder had gone back to its usually flat state. He shook off the last drops and went to tuck himself into his pants, grimacing with discomfort at the rapidly cooling urine that soaked them. He willed the paper towel dispenser open with the Force and did his best to blot away the excess, drying off his cock, balls and thighs, grateful at least that he wore all black and it wouldn't be as noticeable as it could have been. Hurriedly he got dressed again, and tried to feel lucky that the wet streaks down the insides of his legs were covered up by his armor and tunic. 

His gloves were covered in piss from handling his wet clothes and cock—he must have forgotten to take them off. Of course he had. Swearing under his breath, Ren removed them, shook them off and stuffed them in his pockets. He examined himself as best he could without a full length mirror and washed his hands, then realized: his mask was still in the room with the scavenger, and he'd have to make his way back there without anything to hide his shame.

Fine. It didn't matter. He unlocked and yanked the door open, hurling it behind him and hearing steel dent as the door handle slammed into the wall. Confused officers and troopers stared at him, then immediately dispersed. 

Ignoring the revulsion he felt at walking in wet shoes, Kylo Ren made his way back to the interrogation chamber as quickly as he could. She could still be there. He could try again and get it right this time, now that he had no pathetic bodily urges to weaken his powers. He had to. 

Ren approached, strode through the door, and found the chair empty.

_She's gone._

He felt his arms shake, felt the Dark Side flow through him, beating with his heart until he felt like he would burst. 

“No...” 

She'd escaped. He'd lost her, it was his own fault, his failure, his _weakness—_

His saber ripped off his belt, flew to his right hand, ignited, and tore through every surface in the room as Ren became a maelstrom of destruction.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt on the Kylo Ren omorashi tumblr, which you can find here: http://kylo-ren-pisses-himself.tumblr.com/post/136981808300/alright-this-was-too-long-for-an-ask-so-ill
> 
> Thank you to Anon for the inspiration :3


End file.
